Outlast: The Novel
by milesupshur without a paddle
Summary: Miles Upshur sets into Mount Massive Asylum and quickly realises the horrors within. Review please so I can make my next chapter better. Also working on a Whistleblower novel, it will be so good you're mind will be blown.
1. Chapter 1: The Horrors that Await

"Outlast" the Novel by Miles Upshur

CHAPTER 1: MOUNT MASSIVE ASYLUM

"The department of agriculture Commissioner Salazar said changing weather patterns were to blame for livestock behaviour, and encouraged ranchers and breeders to attend this weekend's seminar on Beula Avenue in Pueblo.

This was so frustrating. Why couldn't I change the damn radio station? I loved my Jeep I was driving don't get me wrong, but it always has this problem sometimes. I was stuck on some farmers radio on FM 107.9 that was boring the hell out of me now. Not only that, but I was running low on petrol and my engine oil seemed a little too high.

AUTHOR NOTE

I am Miles Upshur, and I am writing this story about Mount Massive Asylum, the wrongs of Murkoff, and my glorious night in hell. I hate remembering it as I am now scarred for life pretty much. But this isn't a joke. This was real. I think. And very disturbing. If you haven't seen my video file of this event in my website, I must tell you how disturbed you'll be when you watch it. The video is so extreme I thought I'd write this novel so I could reveal the truth about Murkoff without giving people nightmares.

I had received an email from an anonymous source, giving me a tip about the wrong-doings of the Murkoff Corporation and Mount Massive Asylum. Mount Massive was closed amid government scandal in 1971, due to the C.I.A doing illegal experiments on patients using dream therapy. It was reopened by Murkoff in 2009, but I think it is the C.I.A in disguise, as the email said something about dream therapy going too deep. I did my research on Murkoff and printed out the pages I had researched from, along with the email; and put all the paper in a bright blue folder with the word: "CONFIDENTIAL" written on it.

I didn't know at the time, but Murkoff was torturing the patients, as they had created a being of nanotechnology called the "Walrider", and they placed the patients in their machine called "The Morphogenic Engine" and when the patients were tortured enough and had watched enough of the engine, they were placed in the main engine as only a human that had witnessed enough horror could activate the engine and control the Walrider. At the time that was Billy Hope. But of course I didn't know that. But I would towards the end.

I continued down the muddy road and thought about my suspicions about the C.I.A's Project Paperclip, the email the person had sent me and what this all meant.

"And if you're out late tonight you may see some low-flying helicopters near Silverthorne and Leadville." A pause. "And it seems the Arapaho park services will be spraying for an infestation of box elder bugs."

As if anyone cared about these park services. The helicopters sounded interesting though. But the radio rambled on. The voice sounded more bored than I was.

But I wasn't bored any more. Down an even more muddy curved road full of bare trees and long grass, I could make out a huge building. Was that my destination? It had been quite a long drive here so I wasn't sure. Then I remembered the picture of the asylum when I had tried to research it. I say tried as the details were very limited and shady. Yep, this was my destination. They weren't fucking kidding, this place really was goddamn massive. It looked way more bigger than on the photo.

The sun was setting, it was about 8:34 at night. It was September 17th, 2013. The road ahead was misty and I could make out a few lights on in the asylum.

I was approaching it more closely now. As soon as I took the curve the radio signal cut off really unexpectedly. Why? After a while, I realised it must be a jammer seeing how shady this place was. I was ecstatic to be uncovering a top-secret government story type shit. I packed a night-vision camera to help me sneak in and a blue pen and notepad to help keep track of my feelings and the story as it progressed. I found it helpful to take notes and look back on the notes while writing a story. A bit like revision for an exam as a young adult. To be fair, I was 23. I never had luck with the ladies despite my good-looking spiky hair and sense of style with my brown coat jeans and trainers. How arrogant I was back then?

As I continued the path still persisted with long grass, boulders and small, bare trees; and became less muddy but with more gravel, and you could hear the gravel crunching under my tires of my old red Jeep. I think I could make out the asylums gates.

I continued down the path for a brief while until I saw a abrupt left turn and the headlights flashed onto the bronze sign surrounded by brick. I didn't expect that turn, but it was very misty. The weather forecast for this area was foggy and a mountain storm coming in at around 11. The glaring bronze sign read: 'Mount Massive Asylum.'

I couldn't wait, but this place did look a bit creepy. When I took my turn on the left I could see some opened gates, a barrier, another set of gates and the building. I pushed my head forward a bit and squinted. Why were they wide open?

I drove up to the front guard station and swerved quickly to park. There was another barrier ahead of that on the right-hand lane and a lot of crisp autumn leaves on the concrete ground. I paused for a minute. Was there a guard here to 'welcome' me? I had identification, and my I.D tag clipped on my inner mirror. It was a 'Press Official' card which held my Colorado Report License, my I.D number which was: '1496' and it had my agency name: 'INDEPENDENT', the year of issue, my name and signature, that I had signed myself when I took the job at VIRA-leaks. I might have to hide the camera, the batteries and my folder, though. They might ask about that. I was an investigative reporter, and was always getting my ass into these stories I shouldn't and ones no other journalist would dare dig into. It was weird there was no guard, but it was good as I could just sneak in. I wondered if I just left my Jeep here, no-one would think anything of it.

I put the keys and turned the ignition off. I stupidly left my car keys in the ignition though, which was one of my biggest mistakes off this story so far. Others involved actually getting locked in that horrible place, one with a fire, and another involving three lunatics, the sewers and a dumbwaiter. But more on that later on.

The dim lights on the car turned on. I pointed my head towards my research confidential folder thing, my camera with night-vision and the camera's batteries, I had two, one for the camera to start off with, and a spare one in case it run out. I heard the night-vision drained a lot of batteries, and I needed to have a camcorder with one as I was sneaking in at night so I would avoid getting caught. I picked up the folder with my right hand, it was sort of a light blue and white at the same time.

I flicked through the printed web-pages and found the email that I had also printed out. I pulled it out and read it.

September 17, 2013

From: 10260110756

To: milesupshur

Subject: TIP / Illegal Activity at Murkoff Psychiatric Systems

You don't know me. Have to make this quick. They might be monitoring.

I did 2 weeks of software consult at MURKOFF Psychiatric Systems' facilities in Mount Massive. All sorts of NDA's I am very much breaking right now but seriously, fuck those guys.

Terrible things happening here. Don't understand it. Don't believe half the things I saw. Doctors talking about dream therapy going too deep, finding something that had been waiting for them in the mountain. People are being hurt and Murkoff is making money.

I needs to be exposed.

What did this mean? I sure as hell wanted to find out.

I threw the folder in the left back seat behind me. I then reached with my right hand the batteries and put them in my left hand, and one of the batteries in my inside coat pocket.

I loaded the camcorder with the single battery, it was a Spatlin brand, a 'HOO Night View' edition. I pressed the on button after loading it and it made a loud 'pleep' as I did so.

It was filled with different gadgets I couldn't understand. I had tried to read the instruction booklet, but the only thing I could understand was that the R3 button controlled the NV.

It cost a good three-hundred dollars, but it would probably be made up for in the profit.

I knew a lot of money was too be made from this. It was a government story after all, and was probably going to give me fame. I couldn't wait, but that was if the project was successful. I didn't want to end up in federal prison, and have my company destroyed.

It was this company that needed destroying, and not my bosses'. I had a surprisingly good relationship with my (female) boss, which was good, and I wasn't going to end it now.

I opened the visor and noticed the night-vision was on. I pressed the R3 button just like the instruction booklet said, and turned it off almost as soon as I raised it to my face. It was functioning okay, I checked the zoom by zooming in on my 'Press Official' I.D card. The audio worked to, but it did make everything look slightly brown, but it didn't matter.

I turned the night-vision on to check and put my camera in my pocket. I exited the jeep and the door make a loud 'CLUNK' in the process of opening. Slowly I landed on my feet and look up at the huge asylum, I could make out a flash of lightning from the storm in the mountain.

The fresh mountain air was amazing. Raindrops and the smell of autumn air. I breathed in a large breath and sighed. The crisp leaves crunched and the autumn chill was in the air. In Colorado, the climate was extreme, very hot summers and extremely cold winters. Yesterday it was sweltering, and the abrupt change in climate on one day of autumn happened this time of year. I was used to it, I lived in the state my whole life. Fuck global warming.

My shadow was very long seeing as it was very late evening. I decided to explore some more, and entered the empty guard house. It had some shopping lists, reminders on

post-it notes and a kids drawing, so I was guessing the guard had a family. The phone line was cut off and was playing the 'no-signal' music. That didn't seem right and first, but then I quickly disregarded it for some reason, I was too ignorant at the time way back then.

As soon as I exited the guard station the main front gates beyond my Jeep shut with a loud crash. Damn it! Did someone know I was here? Why hadn't I seen anyone yet?

I continued my path and opened the right-hand side gate just beyond the second barrier, next to the second pair of gates. They were separate. It was chilly out here and I shivered.

The gate opened with a creak. I walked a little bit more and came across a garden. It had different bushes, a path with stones, some grass and a lamp, but the garden wasn't in use. I put my camera out and zoomed in on the place. I think I captured a figure in the window, but

I can't be sure.

I got my blue pen and notepad out, I flipped it open and started writing. Again, it was good to look back on my notes and feelings when I was writing my article, I found it helped me write it. I wrote this down:

'I start feeling sick just looking at this place. Mount Massive Asylum, shut down amid scandal and government secrecy in 1971, reopened by Murkoff Psychiatric Systems in 2009 under the guise of a charitable organisation. Cell phone reception cut off abruptly a mile out, more like a jammer than lost signal. The Murkoff Corporation has a long track record of disguising profit as charity. But never on American soil. Whatever they thought they could get out of this place has to be big. Might finally be the story that breaks the bastards.'

I couldn't wait to see this company being absolutely demolished. I was finally covering a story that was important.

As I continued up the pathway of concrete steps, I noticed amidst the leaves whirling around, military vehicles, and what looked like the main entrance. What the fuck? Why were the military here? Where were the militants? So many unanswered questions I was to find out soon.

I walked past the vehicles towards the main entrance. I obviously couldn't just waltz into there. I tried nevertheless, but the doors seemed to be locked tight. I sighed. How was I going to get in? The doors had a couple of windows on either side and a small letterbox or buzzer thingy. All the curtains were shut and more leaves were scattered on the floor.

I pondered what all of this meant, and went back into the garden's path. Then I noticed to my left and gate with a hole in it. How the fuck did it get there? I realised I could work that out later, and this was a possible way in. I sprinted quickly in case any personnel, Murkoff or otherwise would see me, I would be fucked.

When I approached there a panted slight and ducked down. I could make out a light blue door above some steps, some scaffolding, windows with the lights on and bushes. I made my way towards the door first, but that to was locked. This was frustrating. An owl hooted in the distance, yet more leaves whirled around and the sun was setting. It was getting dark now.

When I turned my head I realised there was a fountain in the yard, it was more well-kept than the first garden near the main entrance. With my camera I zoomed inwards and noticed an empty window, and by empty I mean it was without the glass panel. The must have been changing the glass, and this explained the scaffolding. This was my way in!

Four lights were on in the lower floor windows, but only one light was on in the first floor. Not that it mattered anyway. I passed the fountain and some bushes, and made my way to the ladder.

I started to climb, each time my foot hit the bars while climbing it made loud

high-pitched 'CLINK' and 'CLUNK' noises. I hauled myself up and looked around. I could only go right, going left would get me nowhere. I was facing right up to the window, and moved out of it's way quickly, hoping no-one would open the curtains. I look a sharp turn to the right, and saw another turn to the right, and a wooden slope. There was a gap in my way though, so I jumped over the small gap grunting slightly. I continued and took the turn, I went up the wooden slope and noticed another wooden panel laid straight out. I realised I could climb up more towards the empty window with help of the slope. I grabbed onto the metal bar above me and pulled myself up towards the next level of scaffolding, grunting again in the process.

Left was a dead end again, so I had to go right the third time. This time my path was two single and thin wooden panels. It looked unsafe, but I went anyway, but my heart did stop when I heard it creak. Some bird was making weird noises I never heard a bird make before, humming and clunking. It might have been a new species or something.

I took a left and went down that path, I was nearly at the window. The panels got thicker and when I reached the empty window, I turned and then I pulled myself inwards, I noticed a stained carpet, and some upturned chairs, and a sofa pulled up towards the fireplace. That defiantly wasn't right, maybe this area was abandoned after a patient wrecked havoc or some shit. I couldn't bare the change from mountain air to the musty damp smell of something. I could also smell copper - or blood. Yet another question that needed an answer. The clock read 8:45.

As soon as my feet hit the ground, the light flickered and went out. Again, why? I turned on the NV so I could see my way around, it was dark as fuck!

I made my way through the creepy-ass room and found a door. I opened it and came across a room named A218. It was a little brighter here, but still pretty dim and had a horrible musty smell. I couldn't go left or right, as they were both blocked off, so I had to continue into the room. I made my way in ignoring the creaking floorboards and noticed a few things. I saw a few seemingly uncomfortable armchairs, some curtains with the wind blowing them around, a couch, a coffee table and a TV. There were also some bookcases and a picture of a priest.

There seemed to be a lot of drawings and paintings around this place, I found.

When I walked around the room the TV turned on screeching suddenly, startling me a bit. The TV was just showing static, a dead channel. What was going on here? It gave me a headache just watching it.

A clock read 9:04. Time couldn't have gone that quick. It must have been broken.

When I exited the room, I saw a room named room A215, but it was boarded up. This didn't seem right. On the right of me I saw stacks of shelves with what looked like old books dumped on the floor. What the fuck happened here? On my left I saw yet more furniture, but this pile I could probably squeeze through. There was a filing cabinet, and some shelves with white boxes which read 'Classified' in small blue letters. I grunted again slightly and moved out of the tiny space and turned around facing the narrow corridor with a ceiling fan in it.

The corridor had that stale smell to it, and the walls were ripped, there was blood bullet holes, burn marks. What happened at this part of the asylum? Before I continued down there I thought I would explore some more. I recorded every bit of it.

I ducked into a small room, where there was a blue swivel chair, a desk with a computer on it, and a filing cabinet underneath. It may have been a quaint little office area once. What became of the person that worked here? The 'no signal' tone for the phone played again.

The filing cabinet had it's top drawer open. It was filled with stacks of unorganised paper, and a battery on top. It was strange, but I took it as the NV drains a lot of battery, I heard.

I shoved it into my inside coat pocket with the other battery and moved on. There was a lamp by the blue computer monitor, to, I noticed. It had a window with half-drawn curtains and a trash can underneath to.

As I got into the corridor, I took note of a cracked frame with a picture on it, it said 'TEAMWORK' on it, but the rest was unreadable. It must have been a certificate of some sort. There seemed to be a fuck-load of posters, picture and paintings around here. Why was it cracked? What happened here? I was determined to find out.

Down the corridor I saw a sign saying room A214, there was blood everywhere. I opened the door, it made a loud creak as it did so. It was quite dark in here, the 'no signal' tone on the phone was getting on my nerves now. It was another blue swivel chair, with a desk, lamp and computer, but they didn't seem to be in use. I could make out a bright blue folder, it was the same confidential folder I brought with me. I grabbed the folder as it might help in a lawsuit or something. The musty smell was awful. I went outside into the corridor so I could read it. My camera had seven eights of battery left, which was good.

I flicked through the folder, it was all blank pages. I sighed until I came across a full-blown stapled two-paged document with official writing on it. It looked important, so I read it.

MURKOFF PSYCHIATRIC SYSTEMS

PROJECT WALRIDER

Mount Massive CO

Case Number: 174

Patient Initials: WPH, "Billy"

Consultation Dated: 2012.10.14

Initial Date of Patient Consult: 2009.04.12

Patient Age: 19

Gender: Male

Observing Physician: Dr. Carl Houston (DBNR)

THERAPY STATUS:

Patient claims to have progressed to self-directed lucid dream states. MORPHOGENIC ENGINE activity observed at unprecedented scale. Continuing stage 4 hormone schedule.

DIAGNOSTICS:

Spirometry revealed no bronchial accumulation.

Hematocrit centrifuge again failed to separate erythrocytes. Highly worrisome.

MRI revealed arhythmic REM/NREM cycle. Laughter in NREM cycle.

INTERVIEW NOTES:

Billy asked about the status of his mother's lawsuit against Murkoff and the asylum. This represents a catastrophic breach in security, despite Billy's claims he had discovered the truth "in the blood dreams of Doctor Trager." (Note: the only Trager on company records, one Richard Trager, is an executive from M.R.D.) All orderlies and security personnel must be questioned and video security improved to include analytical biometrics.

MURKOFF PSYCHIATRIC SYSTEMS PROJECT WALRIDER

Mount Massive CO

What the fuck did this all mean? I couldn't understand about 35% of these words. I knew that REM meant dreaming of some kind. They also mentioned something about lucid dreaming. What did 'the blood dreams of Doctor Trager' mean? Was this what they meant by dream therapy? My 'mysterious' contact could have of explained all the science to me, but he was probably bring monitored as he said, he didn't have time. I needed to research some more. Who was my contact and what became of him? What would Murkoff do to him if they found out about the email? Had they found out? I could never know, because he used a secure email gateway called MuteMail, it was impossible to contact him back now.

I sighed.

I moved down the corridor past a row of radiators on my right. There were three doors, one was a blurred glass door in front of me, dead ahead, the other on my left was left open ajar, it looked like a bathroom, and the one on my right was wide open but I couldn't tell what the room was about.

When I walked further the door on my left closed slowly with a creak. Umm...well, I obviously couldn't go in there, who ever was in there would probably arrest me or beat me or something. I crept slowly into the door on my right, it looked as if the glass door was locked.

When I walked in I saw that the left hand side of the room had a sink, and a sign saying something about washing hands regularly. On the right-hand side, were cola machines, a chair next to the vending machines, a table with lots of wooden planks on it covered in fresh blood, above that was a vent opening loose in it's screws. Beyond that were a couple of bins, a turned up stool, a stool laying on it's side, and a potted plant. I walked up the slopes and turned my head and my line of sight up to the ventilation opening, swinging up and down, blood dripping from it. This worried me. There was also blood dripping from the ceiling, and then a loud crash, like a big bongo drum. I didn't need to be here any more. I didn't have much choice but to clamber up into the vent.

It was pretty dark in this vent. I decided to turn on the NV. I couldn't go right, I had to go left, as the right was blocked off. I crept through the vent, it was full of cobwebs. As I made my way through the vent a heard a noise. It was my creaking, but a door opening. Nervous, I made my way through the vent and prayed the guard wouldn't hear me.

But it wasn't a guard. As I went through the vent towards the light, and wether I turned my head to see who it was, as there was a small window-like thing; I could see through the metal bars a slightly dark figure. He looked right up at me into, the vent, we made eye contact. Oh shit.

"Oh god." The person exclaimed. "Oh god." He exclaimed again, more worried.

"No, no, no, no" he ran back off into the bathroom, crying and sobbing; locking the door behind him. At least the walls had nice tiles...

...

I thought for a while. That was definitely a patient. He was obviously very disturbed.

Why was he wondering around here? Was he the cause of the blood and mess? Did they abandon this area to leave him alone when he got out? Did they know where he was?

Fuck, there were so many fucking questions!

I made my way through the creaky vent, there was yet another cobweb at the ending. I dropped down on the floor, nearly hitting the light; the way I came out of already lost it's vent opening it was now laying on the carpet beneath me. Why? Fuck all of this. I looked around my surroundings. To the right of me was a door, and through the door's window I could make out some segregation gates, and tables and chairs stacked against the side. Again, why? So many "why's" for everything in this place. Everything about this seemed so off. I swear I even saw a figure on the other side of the glassed in upper floor, on that side was some blood, and a painting? I took a shallow breath. There was a two huge chandeliers on the top of the lower floor, if that made sense, so I was looking directly at them at the same level. The thick plexiglass windows caged me in the upper floors. It was a large loop, a lot of wood in this area to. I looked down. It was quite blurry, but I could make out a desk and possibly the front entrance and a front desk reception type shit. Both of the chandeliers glazed brightly, through the windows. On the right, were some stacked up tables and desks. I made my way to the next door, it was wooden like the others. They might have some useful documents in the library. No-one would catch me reading as no-one was here to do so. But not a single bit of that seemed right. Where was everybody? I swore to myself, that the next thing I saw that looked even slightly out of place, I was leaving the fuck out of here and starting the lawsuit. I had recorded enough, I think; and had enough documents to bring this place to the ground. I was nearly there, the sign said 'Library' and the door was left ajar.

I didn't like this place very much. The next thing I saw that looked at all or even slightly wrong...I would...

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! HOLY SHIT! OH MY GOD, WHAT THE FUCK? THAT WAS ENOUGH! THAT'S WHERE I DRAW THE LINE!

That's exactly what I thought after I opened the library and saw a decapitated body swing right at me. I screamed and put up my arms in a defensive reflex action move thing.

That had fucking done it! I felt so sick, I thought I would throw the fuck up. It (the head) was gone, it was so fucking disgusting I...ugh. It was a Murkoff scientist, the person's badge read. It hung from the ceiling, a pool of blood was underneath it, probably was his blood as his head was gone, and was going from his shoes. The light went out, and then his body dropped down near a shelve. Books were scattered all over the floor too. Above his shoulders was just read muscle. Oh my...god. For all I know that was my contact.

Wha- where did his head go? Who caused that amount of gore? Of course that wasn't the most goriest thing I was to see. I didn't want to stick around any longer. The...patients had escaped. Without a doubt. Was it the patient I saw run into the bathroom? Did he cut the head off? With a knife? And if he was such a threat, then why was he scared of me so? Maybe that was a good thing. I still held my own promise this place was just abandoned years ago, but no-one dared come back because of the patient and left him to die there, but saw he was still alive and never came back. Did he live off human? Ugh.

Then why was his blood fresh?

I don't know how many lies I told myself that night, how much I made up.

But it was too much.

I reached for the vent. I did. I tried. I really tried. But I couldn't. I honestly couldn't reach, no matter how hard I tried. So I was locked the fuck in here? I would just find another way out, it was fine. Just press on.

Only my only direction was through the library. The dark, awful-smelling library. I decided if I wanted to get out, to just go that way. I gulped. I was going to have to get out of this. That was when I officially hated this place.

It was so dark in the library. I shuddered when I looked at the body. I decided to man up and carry on, get out. A majority of the books were fallen on the floor. Come on, be a man.

It was just that one body.

But I was soon to be proved wrong. As I made my way through the library, right by the window, was another headless body; hanging. A couple of shelves on the right were upturned, some of their books lost completely. I was using the camera's NV to guide through. I shuddered at the body and turned right. More shelves stacked like a maze, a large plank of wood in front of me. Were those...oh my god...heads? Was someone collecting heads here? What the fuck? How were they removed?

There shelves were, again, stacked like a maze to get through. More blood, bodies, burn marks. Another plank of wood rested from he top of the shelves. More bodies, more heads, more planks of wood.

After wandering around in shock and nausea for a while, I turned and stood in disbelief. There was a soldier, an M.H.S cop impaled on a pole, loads of guts and other body parts beneath him. Lungs, stomachs, diaphragms. There was so much blood to.

Trying not to stare, I crept through the pool of blood. There was a window shining some moonlight through the opened window curtain into room, so I turned off the NV to conserve, I had about five sixths of battery left, which was good; and I had a spare one...but...

I decided not to disturb a man resting in what I personally wouldn't call 'peace'. But then I found out he was alive! He saw me and his eyes blinked and twitched. He was coming back from the dead! Was I hallucinating?! I gave a hoarse gasp and led out his arm, reaching I the air. I was in such disbelief now, if I wasn't earlier. I dropped his arms down, and tried to mutter something. Even though he had a pole in his throat, he still managed to speak and stay alive, which I found remarkable. He gurgled and, in a hoarse voice, he spoke to me, coughing. Behind him the shelves were filled with heads, all kinds of ones, too.

"They killed us." He gurgled. He had his left arm on the pole, holding a fist on the other.

Us? The M.H.S team? They were specially trained killers with guns? Shotguns, assault rifles, all of that. Who were they? The patients.

"They got out. The Variants." He said.

So that was what the patients of the asylum were called? Right. It was like he knew exactly what I was about to say. So the patients were out, after all, Miles. Stop trying to kid yourself.

"You can't fight them." He continued.

At the 'them' he dragged the word out slightly, gurgling even more, and trying to reach out again. What was he trying to reach for?

His arms drooped back down again, and he kept on.

"You have to hide."

A deadly pause. He drooped his arms again. There was fries and mist everywhere.

He held his left arm up. He still had a bit of strength left in him, and what was interesting was that he was using it to tell ME something important. Maybe I should ask him how to get out? How did he get in?

"Can unlock the main doors - from Security Control."

It was like he could read my fucking mind. He wheezed, and his chest made a strange movement. In an effort to either survive or to ease the pain, he lifted his both arms up around to his neck, near the pole and made a noise I can't describe. He chocked and coughed,

he struggled, but still managed; to keep his voice clear enough for me to hear.

"You have to get the fuck out of this terrible place." Then he died. More flies buzzed around investigating their new food. Ugh. All those heads behind him! Their eyes glowed in the NV mode.

I know he was dying and that this didn't occur to him, but maybe he could have at least told me some more information, such as where Security Control was? I was disgusted by the body, but I couldn't stop looking. I had to write this down. Even though I was sure to remember this, I had to write this down. Had to get out of here before I found the cause of this chaos.

The blood was fresh. The soldier couldn't have been on there for long, which was what worried me the most. Where was the person that caused all of the mess?

I scrambled for my notebook and pen. They were in my inside coat pocket. I flipped the notebook quickly and started to write. I titled it "I'm inside" in the hope some other reporter would find my corpse, (IF that happened) and get the message to leave quickly.

'I'm inside. Bodies everywhere. Blood. Burn marks. Heads lined up like bottles behind a bar. Dead Murkoff scientists hung from the ceiling; their badges say "Murkoff Advanced Research Systems". MURKOFF's longtime M.O. has been to profit of the exploitation of supposed charity. Fuck the third world and bankroll another billion.

How did Murkoff think they would make money off a building full of crazy people?

There's some kind of tactical cop pinned like a pig on a spit. Tells me to get the fuck out and then dies. Would have been a good thing to hear when I could still go back the way I came.'

That list line made me pissed off. So, I was stuck in some hell-hole nightmare? An asylum where hundreds of patients escaped and caused...this...this chaos?! What was this?

I made my way down the corridor in the library in shock. There were some more heads on shelves and a potted plant at the end of the corridor.

And then I opened the library door with a creak. The light blinded my eyes, and I could see a big figure in my view. I peeked on the doorframe, through the glass windows I could make out a person not far from I am. He was huge, and shirtless. He was mumbling something like:

"Maintain OPSEC, full black...can't wait...shhh..."

Then he closed the wooden door on the left. His voice sounded rough, he was obviously a patient. Why was he muttering military terms? I assumed he heard the military talking downstairs while he was upstairs; and was repeating that, I think.

He closed the door and strolled into one of the rooms, they were double doors, it looked like the room the patient was in was quite bright. I crept through the hallway quietly, cringing at every creak on the floorboards, praying he wouldn't come out, he sounded dangerous. He looked huge and burly, he was quite fat, had a gruff voice, and beard a resemblance to Shrek. I chuckled in my had at this, it made me feel better about the situation is was in.

I took a right and notice some files cabinets and orange sofas stacked up as some kind of barrier, a crack I could squeeze through. As I did I heard floorboards creak behind me, and then an angry voice behind me. What the fuck?!

"Little pig!"

A painful grip grabbed my shoulder, a gave out a yell and I was pulled out of the tight space, which hurt my chests a bit. WHAT! That was the man I saw go into the double-doored room! Was he even a man? He face was all fucked up, he didn't even have a nose. He looked like Voldemort from Harry Potter, only more coloured, shirtless and fat.

I struggled, letting out some noises as we sort of wrestled. He was huge and too storing I didn't have a chance against him. No matter my efforts, I could restrain from his painful grip.

He gave a snarl and tossed me over his shoulder. I was dead. He was too strong - I thought to myself, I wish I could have gotten the evidence out there about Murkoff - I thought. Maybe get a girlfriend. But it didn't cross my mind he would throw me out the fucking glass window!

I remember every bit of it. I kept on making strange noises through my throat, then let out a howl of pain as I hit the glass, it instantly shattered and I screamed as I fell. I saw the big fucker with his right arm thrown out, and shatters of glass. Then I hit the ground with a yelp.

...

Wha-What just happened? Where was I? Was I dead? All I saw was black, but I heard humming nearby. When I tried to open my eyes to see who it was, I saw a flashlight beam into my eyes. It was too bright, there was already a huge chandelier, why the fuck would you need a flashlight? Was he the one humming? I could see the administrator's desk, and a dead guard surrounded by a pool of blood. The ceiling was just at the top of my line of vision. I was lying on the carpet with my left arm sticking out. I closed my eyes again.

What the fuck?! When I reopened my eyes the guy humming was shining the light right in my face, it was giving me a headache. I looked up and some creepy pale, bald guy in a priests' suit looked down on me and spoke. He tried to be comforting, I suppose, but he still sounded creepy.

"And who are you, then?"

He wasn't anyone of authority, but I wasn't giving this guy my name. I just murmured and said: "Hold on. I need to wake up." But I have up and passed out again. When I woke up,

I was shocked to see he actually had my camera and was looking through very single thing I recorded! He was quite shocked, and then gave a strange sort of smile.

"I...I see." He knew my name now, I had it recorded. Not that he called me by the name anyway, nor reveal it to anyone for whatever reason. He called me 'His son' most of the time.

He lifted up his left arm and curled his fingers as if defending himself.

"Merciful God, you have sent me an apostle! Guard your life, son. You have a calling."

Calling? Fuck that. The only part I agreed was 'Guard your life'. I blacked out yet again. When I woke up I hauled myself upwards with a sigh. I was smack in the middle of the administration reception. The very main entrance was right there. Where was security control?

I hated this place. I had to get out of here before I got killed.


	2. Security Control

I looked around and tried to ignore my searing rib and pack pain. Where the hell was security control? They're went any directions or nothing, just mutilated bodies, glass and a lot of blood. I was smack right in the main office reception area, probably where the boss of this place worked, but who knows what happened to him. The carpet looked like vomit, and the smell was insufferable. There wasn't much here but dark rooms, corridors and different desks, but I didn't have the time to explore them otherwise I'd end up like these lot.

The doors were a pair of massive, reinforced doors with a huge arch shape. The main entrance, and exit. I knew the door see locked shut, but I tried the doors nonetheless.

No. Nothing. I had to go to Security Control. Damn. I didn't know what the fuck awaited me there, but I just needed to hurry up. I looked at the upper floor's glassed-in windows, where that big fucker tossed me through. Rotating my head, I looked around at the upper floors. There was no sign of him now. Beyond the ceiling fan was words scrawled in blood.

'Proclaim the Gospel'.

Did the priest guy write that? How the fuck did he get up there? When did he write that, and was it for me? I walked into a dark room full of computer monitors giving a limited amount of light. There looked like there was a bright room up ahead. The wooden door was wide open, and the floor boards creaked making me cringe at every footstep. The room was filled with shelves stacked with white boxes that might have something important in them. I checked but there was nothing much there. In a darkened part of the room I noticed another bright blue document sitting on it's own on the shelves, so I grabbed it and read the files in there, stepping into the bright side of the room and leaning the files on one of the shelves so I could read it with ease. I recorded the pages as I wrote.

MURKOFF PSYCHIATRIC SYSTEMS

PROJECT WALRIDER

Mount Massive CO

Case Number: 136

Patient Initials: CLW, "Walker"

Consultation Dated: 2013.05.28

Initial Date of Patient Consult: 2011.01.28

Patient Age: 32

Gender: Male

Observing Physician: Dr. Rudolf Wernicke

(notation by Dr. Walsh)

THERAPY STATUS:

Morphogenic Engine activity plateaued at roughly 2000 ppm. Unsafe to progress beyond stage 3 hormone schedule.

DIAGNOSTICS:

Spirometry revealed light-to-medium bronchial accumulation. MRI scans consistent with patient's reported dreams.

INTERVIEW NOTES:

Walker was interviewed in restraints, following his self-inflicted mutilations. Restraint has had to be altered to accommodate his enormous size.

Extensive dermal eruptions as consistent with failed Morphogenic Engine cellular activity. He claims the skin ripped from his forehead a allows for a truer way of seeing, seems to have some boyhood experience with Tuatara Lizards and their parietal eyes. He has expressed anxiety about his flesh, specifically around his lips and nose. Attending orderlies should be advised to watch for further self-mutilation.

The mental traumas he sustained while serving in Afghanistan seems to be retarding progression of the M.E Process. His predominant fixation, amplified by therapy, is a manic exaggeration of military security protocol. A continuation of both chemical and physical restraints is highly recommended.

So...

This was that big fucker that threw me out a window, isn't it? Everything here describes him, his ripped off forehead skin, his strength and size. So his real name is Chris Walker, and he served in Afghanistan? I tried my best to feel sorry for him as he was just a poor veteran serving his country to be stuck in here. But that's hard when that guy went crazy from the ongoing war and likes to throw people out of windows and call them little pigs.

I sighed and rolled up his folder and placed it in my second inside coat pocket, the other had the two batteries in it. I had recorded his document for everyone that sees this to read, but I doubt many would as it's quite disturbing. (Again, that's why I'm writing this story.) If I was going to include him in my article, the government would then have a hard time recruiting soldiers if they see what they might become like. Good. I would rather they all got sent home anyway, to their families and whatnot.

I sighed and continued on. It was nine minutes past nine, according to the clock above a deserted computer. I wasn't unconscious for that brief amount of time, if the gospel message was for me. Maybe all the clocks were broken.

The door to the corridor ahead was completely sawed off. I decided to peek my head around the corner. It was just a few knocked-down potted plants, blood, broken items. There was some sort of guy in a wheelchair and a dark gate with exit in big red letters,

but I needed to go out the front. I got my camera out and zoomed in on the 'poor' fellow in the wheelchair. I got out into the corridor and hurried towards other the gate with 'EXIT' above it. I could see a hallway, paintings, an empty wheelchair covered in blood, the ceiling fan and an empty gate-hole that had the gate completely replaced. It was locked and it made a loud rattle when I shook it. I looked quickly at the wheelchair guy, he didn't move a muscle apart from the odd twitch.

I went down the corridor, creeping past the wheelchair person and filmed him. He was emaciated beyond belief. One room had the door wide open, it was room A115. I moved past the radiator and odd stain on the floor and peeked into the room nervously. It was some sort of lounge, with some knocked over shelves and sofas. But the interesting part was that there were two men staring vacantly and something. One of the men was slightly normal. He scratched his face, sitting on the coffee table, looking deep in thought. The other was covered with burn scars on his face. I went into the room and discovered there was another man, brutally mutilated and with his head in his knees. I cleared my throat and stupidly asked what happened here, I filmed it and hoped for some interesting information from their point of view for my story. But they were all, (apart from the head-in-knees guy) staring and the static-filled television with a fresh blood stain splattered on it. I wrote this in my notepad:

'A crowd of broken men watching a dead channel. They look like patients. They survived whatever happened here but nobody's home.'

I sighed and crept through the room, keeping an eye on the patients in case one, or, even worse; all of them snapped at me. An exit to the room was just behind the sofa, an empty doorframe with wooden boards nailed on. I ducked under there and lifted myself up.

I looked around a little bit. I tried that gate that had 'EXIT' on it. It was dark but I found the handle. It was locked to and I hissed through my nose in frustration.

I opened a door that was left ajar and saw a blood-drenched dead guard slumped in a chair.

The room was dark so I turned on the NV and crept inside. I approached him to investigate. It was a good thing I did to, as he had the Security Control badge pinned on his chest.

I couldn't believe my luck. I picked it up carefully, I didn't want to touch his corpse. I went back out into the corridor where the guy in the wheelchair was. He jumped up, startling me slightly. That motherfucker! He grabbed me by the throat. I don't know if he was trying to strangle me or what. I tried to fight him off but even for his state of health he was surprisingly strong.

"Get them out! Please! The doctor is dead! Rip them clean!"

His voice sounded like a withered, weak old man. I gritted my teeth and grabbed both of his wrists. "You have to help me!" Then I pushed him away whacking my head on the floor. He scrambled on his hands and knees away from me and curled up into a ball as soon as I got back up onto my feet.

"You can't make me."

You attacked me first, bitch! I glared at him. I didn't feel sorry for him, I up just kept on walking back the way I came.

...

I was back at main reception. I looked around and noticed the massive hole in the window where I'm presuming 'Chris' had thrown me through. Where was this fucking room? Another dead guard was sitting flopped onto a chair. I approached the desk to see what it was like and held my nose at the smell. There was another folder. I got it out and read it before rolling it up into a thin tube like the big fucker's file and putting it in my inside coat pocket next to it.

THE MURKOFF CORP. United States Office

WARRANT FOR SEIZURE CASE NUMBER: 29475104

In the Matter of the Seizure of:

MOUNT MASSIVE PSYCHIATRIC CENTER:

MURKOFF PSYCHIATRIC SYSTEMS

Mount Massive Wilderness Area

Country Road 112

Affidavit(s) having been made for the BOARD OF DIRECTORS by MURKOFF HARDLINE SECURTIY (M.H.S) who has reason to believe: CATASTROPHIC SECURITY FAILURE OF PSYCHIATRIC CENTER WITH IMMINENT DANGER OF ENVIRONMENTAL CONTAMINATION

We are satisfied that the affidavit(s) and testimony establish sufficient evidence to require urgent action on the part of M.H.S and grounds for the issuance for this warrant.

You are hereby required to grant M.H.S full access to all facilities and surrender complete authority to it's agents. By acceptance of this document you (and any surviving relatives) surrender all claims of litigation against the Murkoff Corp. or it's subsidiaries for the actions of M.H.S or the circumstances which required their action, regardless of responsibility.

The 'responsibility' was the only thing on the second page. Paper could be put to a better use than that. Did they really have to say 'ENVIRONMENTAL CONTAMINATION'? That was a bit much, but that Chris could probably kill a lot of people. Did he manage to take out a whole squad of M.H.S? How? He was ex-military, and was probably trained how to disarm soldiers when you had no weapons. But still. The gore in that room was just too...how?!

I went through the lobby and noticed I was on the other side of the 'EXIT' gate, and was in the area with the bloodied wheelchair, ceiling fan, and the paintings. I notice it was also an elevator with stairs leading up to the upper floors. I gave it a rattle and it was locked. At least the huge guy couldn't come down here. It looked like the person in the now-empty wheelchair over here had been pushed down the stairs. Honestly. It was the basement, there was no point in me going down there. A huge light burned brightly on the ceiling. I moved into the corridor ahead by going through the empty gate-frame because I saw some dark arrows pointing towards Security Control. Yes! Almost as I did so, I saw...was that a patient?

He ducked out of one room and looked me straight in the eye. He punched the door at the far-end of the corridor consistently and desperately. Was he scared of me? Pall the people here were insane, so probably. Not that I was a threat to him.

I noticed an open bathroom and explored. I opened the middle stall and found a blood covered toilet and a guard dumped on there. The word 'WITNESS' was written in big letters in blood. Was that the priest?

I gulped and started writing in my notepad.

'I'm already beat all to hell, picking broken glass out of my scalp, couple cracked ribs. Nearly killed by a deformed giant, looks like somebody tried to fuck-start his head with a cheese grater. He throws me through a wall, knocks me unconscious.

I wake up and find a doughy old man with a face like an alcoholic kiddy fiddler in a homemade priest outfit calls me his Apostle. Not a job I asked for.

There are words in blood everywhere. I'm getting an ugly feeling in my gut that the "Priest" is writing them, and for my benefit.'

I walked out of the bathroom wide-eyed in my shock and made my way towards Security Control. But I wanted to see where the man that ducked into the room went. The room was locked and muffled sobs came from the other side of the door.

"We didn't choose this. Why should we have to pay for it? Why do we have to die? Walker will kill us just for being sick. We're still people. We didn't choose this!"

It was a mixture of anger, fear and sadness. I tapped on the door quietly and spoke in a weak voice.

"Hello?"

"Go away." The man(en) replied. "He'll hear you. He's coming you know. He'll get you. He coming for us one by one. We'll all be dead."

I walked nervously to Security Control. It was a grey, dirty door with 'SECURITY' written on it in black capital letters. I tapped the sensor with my key are and cringed at the noise. I was worried now after what that patient(s) told me.

I walked in and decided to shut the door. There was a dead guard. How did he die? Me and him were practically the first ones in here. That was what worried me. Even when you were isolated you couldn't be safe. The word 'THEY LIE' was written on the wall in blood.

I sat down cautiously and typed up the code on the computer's keyboard (294751104) once it had turned on, from the latest document I collected. I held my palm into my fist and payed it would work. A banner came up and a bar filled up with white and blue. It read: 'ACCESSING SECURITY SYSTEM'.

I was ecstatic to leave. But I wish it would hurry up as I was getting more and more worried Chris would show up as the man told me he was coming to this area. Turning my head to one of the monitors I saw the priest and lifted my eyebrows. It was a black and white surveillance camera in some room, presumably the basement. He looked dead at the camera and pulled a lever. Then it all went black.

The emergency lights switched on and I immediately checked the door. It was locked. Fuck! He trapped me in here! Then I heard an angry, muffled voice with heavy breathing added into the mix.

"We have to contain it."

Oh no. Please no. Not him. Not Chris. Not now. Please. That was all I needed. The only place I could hide were two lockers, I didn't have much choice. I opened the locker on the left-hand side of the room with a creak and locked it shut. I peered through the small bars.

His huge shadow appeared across the room and his massive body walked past the blurred window. I hoped to God he would keep going. Then the door gave a thud. Will it hold?

THUD!

Please hold.

THUD!

PLEASE HOLD!

CRASH!

It didn't hold. He burled down his shoulders and growled. When he realised nothing was in here, he calmed down and stood where he was. Did he see me? More than luckily he stomped over to the computers and breathed heavily some more.

"You were here, weren't you? Little pig. I'll find all you whores."

What the fuck?! So he was hunting me down now? Shit, I had to be wary of him. If he even saw me, I was dead.

He opened the fucking locker?! Oh fuck, I was dead, too dead. Wait, I wasn't! He waltzed over to the empty doorframe and looked back. Was he going to check this one?

"It fine. Strict security protocol in this area is never overlooked once."

Oh. He marched down the corridor and I heard him mumbling.

"Patience. Cornerstones of enhanced interrogation, the endurance of the man, asking questions, not the subject. We will have truth."

...

I waited a solid twenty minutes in that locker frozen. Eventually I got the courage to write in my notepad.

'The big fucker is stalking me. Found a patient file for a CHRIS WALKER, ex-military police., several tours of Afghanistan. A lot of the blood in this place I son his hands. But not all of it.'

I walked down the corridor into the room the inmate before hiding from Walker was originally in. A dead guard posed on the sofa. I found another document and read it, folding it up and putting it up in my inside coat pocket. It was official. I now had one pocket for batteries and one for folders/documents.

From: Helen Granat

To: group8416

Subject: Project Walrider On Site Inspection

Dear Sirs,

The full report pending, no immediate action is required on the part of The Murkoff Corp. The profit potential of PROJECT WALRIDER remains staggeringly high.

The four fatalities contain enough ambiguous data to make any litigation, if evidence is correctly managed, impossible. PROJECT WALRIDER remains a dangerous initiative, and there will almost certainly be further casualties. As with the others, however, family and government interest in the patients is so low as to make any chance of any legal actions vanishingly unlikely. Violence among patients is increasing s the Morphogenic Engine Therapy gets a loser to producing working models, but a combination of physical and chemical restraints have proven sufficiently effective to assure continued control and profit.

Respectfully,

Helen Granat

Murkoff Legal Mitigation Dept.

Well, I saw here now Murkoff. Fuck you. Guess who turned up to dpbring you down, you shits.

I sprinted down the corridor into where the blood-drenched stairs and wheelchair was, the elevator area. I slowed when I neared the wooden steps and walked down. Water gushed out of a broken pipe. I opened the basement door and found a locked gate, but I just squeezed though a crack in the brick wall. In a dark corner of the room was yet another folder. I sloshed my way through the water and read it, rolling it up.

"MKULTRA program, CIA document no. 190691, p. 1,

excerpt

To: File

Subject: Hypnotic Experimentation and Research,

Febuary 10, 1954

On Wednesday, 10 February, 1954, hypnotic

experimentation and research work was continued

in Building 13 of the Mount Massive Preserve in

Colorado using the following subjects.

material abridged

1. A posthypnotic of the night before (pointed

finger, you will sleep) was enacted. Misses

Jackson and Pierce immediately progressed to a

deep hypnotic state with no further suggestion.

Miss Pierce was the instructed (having

previously expressed a fear of firearms in any

fashion) that she would use every method at her

disposal to awaken miss Jackson (now in a deep

hypnotic sleep), and failing this, she would

pick up a nearby pistol and fire it at Miss

Jackson. She was instructed that her rage would

be so great that she would not hesitate to

"kill" Jackson for failing to awaken.

2. Miss Pierce carried out these suggestions to

the letter including firing the (unloaded

pneumatic pistol) gun at Jackson and then

proceeding to fall into a deep sleep. After

proper suggestions were made, both were

awakened and expressed complete amnesia for the

entire sequence. Miss Pierce was again handed

the gun, which she refused (in an awakened

state) to pick up or accept from the operator.

She expressed absolute denial that

the foregoing sequence had happened."

What the balls were they on about? Wasn't MKULTRA something the C.I.A illegally led? And what was all of this? It didn't make sense. I waddled through the water uncomfortably through the sort of corridor, I jumped over a barrier and turned on the NV. I heard a meek voice.

"Who's there? Who's ... who's there? I'll hurt you. I'm not afraid of dying. I'm not afraid of anything. Not anymore."

Fuck all of this. I need to do what I must, and get out of here. I was nearly done in this horrible place.


	3. The Disquietude of The Basement

It was dark as hell when I stepped into the main room. The only light was dim red light from the machine that turned on the electricity. I could make out my way there, I needed to preserve my battery. I cringed as I made a loud splash entering the water and went up the wooden steps IP to the platform to examine the machine. There was a button that controlled the entire light system, but according to it I couldn't press it until both of the gasoline pumps were turned on and some main breaker. Why creepy priest, why? Why did you have to make things so difficult?

I pivoted and looked around, turning on the NV for a better viewpoint. The place was filled with water and mattresses, headless bodies everywhere. No doubt it was the big fucker's work. I prayed to God he wouldn't come down here, he was all I needed right now. I moved past the generators and slowly into the brumal and shallow water. I noticed a door that said "GAS ROOM" next to it. I crept steadily through making as little noise as possible. The crazy man had told me he was not afraid to hurt me and not afraid of dying either. Maybe he was scarred from his experience when Chris cleared up down here.

I walked up the wooden steps and creaked open the door. I looked around at the lockers, the shelves and the pumps. I noticed a battery on the shelves and placed it in my coat pocket. My one now was dying so I switched it out and put the one I just collected inside the camera. It was fully charged that was good. I turned off the NV to test the brightness in here. A faint amount of red light was visible from the gas pump. It was a MORIN brand switch.

The red indicated it was off. I gave it a good punch and it made a loud noise and the machine whirred on, turning the dim light green.

I ran over to the other gas room opposite me. I heard a door breaking. I didn't know what or where it was, but I slammed the door shut, locking it behind me. The thuds grew louder. Please don't let that be Chris. Is sprinted to the pump and decided the push it, then hide under a bed I saw over the other side of the room stacked with mattresses. It wasn't that bright, it was only a bit of green light. No doubt whoever was out there heard it and was coming in here. But he was probably insane and not that intelligent. We would not notice me hiding. I scrambled under and turned the NV on to check my surroundings. The door I locked was thudding vigorously. Don't be Chris Walker on the other side. Please no.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Then the door broke down. I was surprised, but then not surprised at all, to find that it was the insane person warning me to go out of his area. I shouldn't be fucking with his shit, but he should blame Father Martin, not me. I turned my head along with the camera to check his position. He strolled over to the now green-lighted pumps and stood there for a while, breathing heavily with dyspepsia. After examining the room he walks near the bed and stops, and pivots towards the wall, so he was facing me. I could see his feet, he had no shoes or socks on. I held my breath. He swaggered down hitting his plank on his palm, ready to attack. The plank had a serrated, rusty and long nail sticking out of it. I gulped and heard his footsteps hit on the floor loudly.

"There was no putty tat there."

This guy was psychotic as shit! I wasn't fucking with him, honestly. I was no match for him. An insane man had above average strength than an ordinary human. I waited for a while after he left the room. I ran towards the door he first broke down which led to a corridor and a junction which led to the electric room, according to a sign. As soon as I turned the corner the insane monster screamed. Shit!

I ran. And ran and ran. I smashed open a door with my fist and slammed it shut. I needed to hide in the lockers. He wasn't as smart as Chris and wouldn't even check. I grabbed a battery off the shelves swiftly and opened a locker to hide in. He was breaking the other door that was right by the lockers! I locked the locker shut and listened for the thudding.

The slams and thuds were with great vexation that I wondered if the priest had told him not to turn on the shit.

He lunged through the door when it broke and I could see him, terrifyingly close to the locker through the little bars. He spoke in a violent voice.

"Come out and play. Little...little..."

Shit I needed to get out of here. He did a circle of the room before storming off the way he came. I was a bit too close up to him for me. He seemed to only have one eye and his skin was cut out like the way the Earth's plates cut around the crust. After a while, I exited the grimy locker and crouched down peeking. I got up and moved down the corridor, jumping over some form of wooden homemade barrier and entered a room. It was disgusting. The smell was macabre, organs and blood spilled all over the empty bookcases. Beds stacked with mattresses, headless guards. I confirmed my suspicion of the big fucker's presence here earlier. I grabbed a clean battery from the shelves and carried on. I took a corner in the corridor and ran around desperately for the main breaker room.

One door was locked but the other open, not much here but a small, flooded room with more wooden paraphernalia. Where the fuck was this thing? I peeked through the corridor

I came in from. I put my hand and the brick wall and saw the patient walk down the hallway. I ran back into the room I was previously in and hid behind a desk thing, peeping through a crack in the planks to see where and if he was coming from.

I saw him through the wide-open door come down the steps and into the water. He turned his body and head, looking around. It was obvious he couldn't see, and I was invisible to him. Good. I tested the NV to reassert how dark the area was, and it was fucking crepuscular. Pitch black. How could he see?

I crept slowly, crouching through the water and took another peek at the corridor I previously peeked from. He was far down with his back to me. I walked down the other end to the corridor I didn't explore yet. I opened the wooden door and came into a room with what looked like a generator. The lever! I found it! I grabbed my sixth battery that was placed next to the AL-X 75 gas containers. I moved towards the lever and pulled it with my left hand swiftly and it made a loud mechanical noise as the light turned to green on the box. No doubt the crazy guy was gonna come back, so I hid in the locker yet again and turned of the NV to preserve. I turned it on when he came back, grunting and making weird noises. He checked a locker, but he didn't check my one, which was great. When he left, I waited and moved on.

I exited the room and headed back towards the machine that turned on the lights, where I came in from. "Shshshshshshshshshhh!" I heard him say. Sneaking up on him, I pushed him out the way and ran like hell. He screamed and yelled: "Hello, doctor!" but in a sort of feminine and creepy way. I jumped the planks of wooden, the barrier thing; and sprinted into the main room. The machine was green now! I gave it a loud punch as fast as I could and the lights flickered on. I ran the way I came, through the bright flooded hallway, through the gap in the brick wall, and up the the wooden stairs. Back in the administration block. I breathed a sigh of relief it was over. All the lights were on now. I ran up the stairs. Just no more Chris Walker. Please.

I headed up to the elevator. I paused. Did it work? I punched the dial and heard screaming.

A patient fell down and I heard a 'WHACK' from below and the screaming suddenly stopped.

...

That was manslaughter. But they couldn't prove I did it. How? It didn't matter, as I was leaving NOW. I sprinted towards Security looking over my shoulder quickly, and stepped over the broken door. I needed to be quick and I punched the keys on the keyboard with my fingers.

I heard running and something pushed my face into the monitors, I spread my palms onto the desk. I tried to fight off whatever it was, it was the priest shithead! His black sleeves wrapped around my neck and he put my neck facing upwards just above the clock. Then I saw...a fucking needle!

It was filled with some green substance and he pierced it right into my neck. I grunted as he injected me with the drug and my colour vision distorted into a yellow type of shade, my vision blurred and rippled. I fell on the desk and instantly felt weaker. Whatever the fuck that was in that needle was too strong. He probably overdosed me, for Christ's sake. I gripped on my camera tightly still, and was facing directly into some brown files. My mind began to wander and I could feel myself going cross-eyed. What was in that, really strong absinthe or something?

"I'm sorry, my son." He showed the needle by laying it out on his palm. "I didn't want to do this to you." He put the needle away and put his left hand on mine with his pale, soft and doughy skin. Ugh! Just get the fuck off me! Just let me fucking leave! I slipped my hand away off of his and turned towards him swatting him away!

"Just let me leave this goddamn awful place!"

"No."

"NO?!"

"You can't leave. Not yet. There is so much for you to witness."

He grabbed me and pulled me all up in his face as if he was trying to force me to kiss him. He pulled my head towards the Redge and Helman computer screen and pointed at the black and white video. "Will you see it? Can you?"

I couldn't concentrate. It looked like the M.H.S team in some sort of lobby and they were being spun around by something. "Our lord, The Walrider, tearing his truth into the unbelievers."

Huh? They were being spun around and their torches flashed. One tried to run for it but failed and got dragged, blood on the floor by nothing, blood trailing and leaving a mark.

The priest grabbed me and pulled me on my back facing him. None of this made sense.

"The only way out of this place is the truth. Accept the gospel, and all doors will open before you."

Then the blackness covered my eyes.

...


End file.
